After the Fact
by Foresaken-Shadow
Summary: Jean's returned to an empty room in the mansion. Her thoughts on what's happened due to Phoenix, and pertaining to a certain Mr. Summers. Post X3, Jean's POV, hints of ScottJean.
1. Life Lessons

**After The Fact**

Not really sure where the idea for this one came from. However, I thought it was something I should eventually touch on x) Yet again, this is another one-shot (for now, anyway). Jean's thoughts of what has happened in the past few months: mistakes, disasters, and the emotions behind them. Why had she survived when they had to die?

Set after X-men 3: The Last Stand. Jean's POV; Scott/Jean-ish. I do not own these characters, the movies, nothing; except the idea of the story.

* * *

So here I stand. In the cold walls of the room once more. My fingers are curled to the slightest degree, but it feels as if they are clenched so tightly that they are bleeding in my dry palms. Anger scourges from the room. However, it is not that of infuriation, it is more or less that of self-pity. Logan had been the one to oh so kindly remind me that I retained the look of the Phoenix. Never-minding my anger, he had been attempting to be sincere while relaying the honest truth to me. But did I take this honest truth lightly? No I did not. Phoenix's hate and rage had apparently never ever really left me. 

So as I stand amongst this bitter air in the room that at varying points in my life was the room of safety and tranquility, while also the room that contained my, or rather _our_ secrets, and it had housed us during _our_ tragedies. Now, as I think back on him, his prescience weakly wedges its way into my mind, making it hard for me to stifle back tears. How had it been that I had been the one to lose control when he had come to rescue me from my aquatic hell? At the last possibly moment I had tried to break away, but Phoenix's hunger was far too strong, and who was I to deny a kiss from _my_ lover?

I hadn't exactly known him to be dead until I myself had been "killed" at Logan's claws. When I woke in the mansion, surrounded by students whom I'd grown close to: Rogue, Peter, Bobby, and then of course two friends, Ororo and Logan; I had realized then that something didn't quite sit right in my mind. It was…dare I say, empty to an extent. Hell, the first words out of my mouth pertained to him. And Storm's response to my questioning only heightened my irritation and apprehension; when she would not tell me where Scott was.

Again I blinked and was shoved rather rudely back into the world of reality. I had taken few steps around the room, but this room was foreign now. Even the air was offset after our absence; without Scott's breath filtering over mine and mine over his, the space felt distinctly cold and uninviting. I stared blankly at the untouched sheets folded over the mattress. I had always known Scott to be slightly obsessive about his habits and safety of those around him, however this looked beyond that of "slightly." Anything and everything within the room was aligned so perfectly that it would have probably taken hours at least to systematize the décor in such a manner.

My heart ached. I had forced all others away while I selflessly went in the line of duty to protect those I loved and cared for back at Alkali. Little did I know that Phoenix would awake while I lie dead beneath the waters. And even less had I expected her to act in such a manner towards Scott. Now that I was within the vicinity of our room again my thoughts were centered on him...on _us_. The room had experienced so many firsts, but my initially optimistic thought crashed as I realized how many more lasts had also taken place here inside the walls. I suddenly sank into the bed, causing the comforter to rumple as I settled angrily into the pillows. My hair splashed over the cotton, contrasting vibrantly with the rather natural colors in the room.

As I lie on my rightful side of the bed, I close my eyes, trying to push everything from my conscious being. As my body grows still, my heart beats out above everything, drowning out all else. Memories flood into my open mind, unusually enough though, they are all my own. The first day we'd met was one of the most distinct in the beginning of the rush; Scott's panicked projections and angry demands. I'd given him my hand to guide him, and amazingly enough the headstrong man had taken it. However, the pressing grip on my hand might have been more out of anger and unwilling submission, but it was still a treasured and unforgettable moment all the same. Our first kiss had been another image; we were still in our later years of classes at that point. Then the room's memories and my own began to mesh, all the while the images enhanced greatly.

The first night we'd shared the room together. We were in our mid-twenties by then, and the first couple to actually share a room in Xavier's mansion. It took a lot to persuade him, or so it had felt as if it did, but he was more than happy to let us have it. Ever since then, the vicinity had become treasured to us. It was the one place in the mansion where we could really and truly be who _we_ were without judgments or incursions. I couldn't even count the number of times Scott had chased me around the bed during the first few years…let's just say that.

Then the conversations of family, children, and marriage crossed my mind. Between us, one topic had always melted into the next. I had a family, a small family, but one nonetheless that did care for me. Scott had been orphaned when he was very young, and was never secure enough anywhere during his childhood, save for in the mansion. This was the main reason Scott feared having us a child; the fact he'd grown without a father made him likely to be critical of himself as one. I had long made up my mind that if a child came into our lives, I wouldn't think twice of being a mother. In fact, I was already used to the idea to an extent, what with the children and students that lived in the mansion…it was hard not to think of them as your adopted family. This had set Scott off when he learned that he had been thought of as a father figure; he hadn't even suspected the feelings, and was rather ashamed of himself when he was finally told and he admitted that he hadn't really noticed it. All in all, Scott and I did want a child, but there was always something that had to come between us and shatter the idea, whether it be rivals, enemies, Phoenix, or whatnot.

And of course, marriage had been a deeply talked of topic between us. So deep, that once it started, it was likely it wouldn't end until we turned in for the night. Each time we started the conversation, it had always led down an alternate path; some angry and others joyous, while some were just so damn unbelievable that we would just sit and laugh for what seemed like hours. Yet again I snapped myself to reality. Marriage, families and children were no longer an option. The man I wanted to call a husband and wanted to be the father of my child or even possible children was now dead, or so I had been told. Those things would never happen now.

The pessimistic attitude brought up another little something into my thoughts; something we'd kept secret for quite a while now.

With one sweep of my hand I tugged open the first drawer in my bedside table. After I had opened it with my mind, my twittering hands sifted through the various objects, everything from bottle caps to old letters, to photographs to a few cosmetic items. However, I stopped short when my hand brushed a velvet surface near the bottom of the shallow container. My eyes had fallen closed, but I didn't know the reason as to why. While drawing in a forced breath, my fingers curled to the slightest degree around the velvet, plucking the object from the masses.

An engagement ring. Scott and I had decided mutually to keep it secret; getting engaged shortly after the incident at Liberty Island. We'd gotten rings, but to keep the status hidden we kept them in our room and only wore them when we went out as a couple. During missions we decided to just leave them off because of the possibility of them breaking or getting in the way, and if we walked around with them on a regular basis they'd be more than obvious to just about everyone in the mansion. It was merely a measure of safety for us; Scott had made the point that Logan would probably be keener on killing him, and everyone knew the stereotypical situation of the enemy attacking those you loved.

However, the rules we made up didn't matter so much now. I withdrew the ring from the box, and it shimmered delightfully as I somehow managed to get it onto my finger. _The rules don't matter now_, I thought again. I had been engaged to Scott, and as far as I was concerned, I was still engaged to him until he was physically proven dead. It didn't matter if he was here or not, but I would still stand by him. No matter who, or even what came between us, I would love that Summers boy forever.


	2. Unresolved

**After the Fact 2**

A little continuation of "After the Fact." I had somewhat had this in mind for the original, but I didn't want to do a drastic time change at the end just to fit it in.

Jean engages in battle and soon finds out something she herself hadn't quite expected…

I don't own the X-men guys P This is set after X3: The Last Stand.

**Personal Note: **Wen1, Summers-Spirit, and CykePhoenixSummers, you three are too kind to me. :) I love your reviews, on this story and the others you've read. Thank you!

* * *

"Ugh…!" I cried out while staggering over my own two feet and barely managing to keep balanced. My head was spinning dangerously - things began to fade out, and as I went to stroke my burning forehead, my knees buckled beneath me. Logan continuously managed to be there to save the day, of course. Lucky me. He seized me by the arm and kept me from completely crumpling on myself.

"You okay, Jean? That's the second time today," he growled, obviously concerned for the woman who just happened to still have feelings for the man he had considered a rival-at-large.

"No…no I'm fine," I managed to get out. Again I brushed my forehead and winced upon my own instigated contact of a finger of the leather glove on my skin.

"Maybe you should—" Storm interposed, narrowly missing a car that soared through the air and smashed into the gravel a few feet beside our group, "—listen to him Jean! You've—" Another car plunged beside her, "—been looking really pale for the past few days!" She had to shout due to the roaring flame-bursts and the shriek of crunching metal.

I then gave a forced outward sigh and rolled my eyes and grimaced to myself, "I'm fine, thanks." This is when I glanced up and saw Logan still holding onto my arm with a loose grip. I met his eyes and lifted my eyebrows as if to signal to his fingers. Reluctantly the man released my limb, and acted as if it was a mistake that he'd still held on to it. I knew him better. He was only trying to get the upper hand now that Scott wasn't here to glare at him after every little hint of attraction. I hated that, but I hated this even more. Didn't he know that a girl had feelings? "I'm fine-" I repeated, emphasizing each word in an aggravated tone, "-thanks."

That was when Logan gave the slightest twitch of his head and murmured, "Alright. Next time you fall I may not be there." The second was followed with an impish grin, and I rolled my eyes again. However, I would have found the urge to laugh hard to suppress when he flew backwards a good fifty feet, except for the little thing that caused it. Magneto, striding forward, his hand outstretched as if he was royalty and deserved to have his feet kissed.

"Ah, Ms. Grey," he started. His voice, despite the previously comforting childhood memories associated with it, fazed by me, "Where is the Cyclops? I've counted your standings and it seems you are missing one…"

My mouth must have dropped, because the elderly man laughed a moment later. I then blindly snapped my own hand out, primarily hoping it would connect with his jaw, but intending to throw him back with the telekinesis. However, neither was accomplished when his fingers dropped from the invisible hold on Wolverine - I heard him drop to the rocky ground - and wrenched around my wrist, nearly snapping the bone in two. That sent a line of fire through me, and I think he could feel it as well.

"Feisty, are we?" he mused, his hand pulling my own further up as my knees forcibly buckled again. I too dropped to the ground, giving a weak yelp of pain as my knees were thrust into the jagged ground. He looked to me and raised one eyebrow, and then stared at my hand, as if it held a secret and he was ready to reveal something marvelous to the entirety of the world…like unveiling the cure to cancer.

I snapped and my eyes widened simultaneously. _No,_ I thought, panicked, _Please…_ Too late. Rings are made with metal. My eyes fell closed almost guiltily as the former teacher nonchalantly plucked the glove off of my hand, finger by finger, purposely struggling over one finger in particular. He knew, and he'd always known. Finally my bare palm was exposed to the open wind, and it sported a slim band with a miniature diamond embedded into it. My closest friends hadn't known yet, and it had been a year, at least. They'd kill me once this was over.

"Engaged, are we?" Magneto purred, eyeing the ring, and then my expression. He knelt down slightly and lowered his voice, "Not to the Cyclops, I hope."

"What does it matter to you?" I hissed. Apparently that was a bad idea, because the man twisted the arm back so that I had to move in his direction just to stop the burning pain in my shoulder from growing.

He held a studious face for a moment, and then chuckled, "Your blood is a bit high on the pressure scale, my dear." He then smiled and stated, "Pregnant, perhaps?"

That ended it right there. With my free hand I swept his feet from under him, and then grounded him into the gravel. My eyes were edged with fire, my own anger, and I whispered, "There's no way." I contemplated shoving my heel into his neck, but thought better of myself. It probably wouldn't be a good example for the kids, either. I stood to my full height and called to the X-men, younger and older, "Simulation's over."

Storm threw a precautious glance over her shoulder, asking subconsciously, "You sure?" I nodded in response. I was through with everyone being light-footed around me like that. Fortunately no one had seen the ring, and I snatched my glove from the simulation of Magneto.

"Thanks," I snarled before storming out of the spherical room.

---

I paced in the lab. _I'm loosing my mind…that's all there is to it. I'm loosing it,_ I thought, rubbing my forehead as I stopped for mere seconds. Shortly after we'd all unsuited, I dragged Ororo to the side and specifically asked her, "Do we program what the simulations? Like their dialogue?" She shook her head in response, while Logan interjected as he passed by, "No. They hold the person's voice, and have the ability to say anything in any human language." He was being dead serious.

And of course, me, being the paranoid person I am, fled to the infirmary. I had to know the truth; whether my logical reasoning was correct, or rather the simulated Magneto had somehow managed to tell by my blood that I was pregnant…or even if the simulation had just been attempting to inveigle me further.

"It's not possible!" I barked suddenly, replaying the conversation for the millionth time. In all logical means, it wasn't. I obviously didn't _look_ pregnant…no I looked almost the exact way I had when I'd submerged into Alkali Lake. That was nearly six months ago, if I understood correctly. So even if Scott and I had actually had sex six months ago, I would look rather pregnant by now. However, the next problem was the fact that I couldn't exactly remember our last time together. Even still, six months? It made no sense.

Unless… My body had fallen dormant once submitting to the watery depths of the lake. Was it really possible that maybe…just maybe, if I had been supporting a child, that it too would have fallen dormant? And even if a child had done so within my womb, that was certainly not good news, and defiantly not something I particularly wanted to death with. A dormant child? A child that would have been within my body for at least a year before birth? My head was spinning.

Shortly after the Danger Room session, I'd ran to the lab, and that was to find a store-bought pregnancy test. Of course, after using the idiotic thing it had come out positive, just to further entice my anger. Therefore, I'd taken up my doctoral skills and drawn my blood for more valid testing. And here I was: the results sat on the table before me, and I couldn't get myself to even _glimpse_ at them. _This is ridiculous,_ I thought bitterly, _Why can't I just look at a damn piece of paper?_

I couldn't look because I knew what having a child would mean. Having Scott's child no less, would mean that I would be continuing his bloodline, but that was minor compared to everything else. An unborn baby, likely to be inside a woman's body for well over a year before birth… The logic was no where to be found. However, the one thing that made me jittery was not the dormancy fact, but instead the fact that if this child survived, it would be the first to be spawned from two mutants. Possibilities of successes and disasters were limitless at this point. However, I needed to look at the damn results first.

"Fine…" I breathed, overturning the paper and scanning it at least twice before anything at all started to set in. All the headaches, the nausea, the fainting spells…I thought it had been due to my mutation. It very well could still be partially due to my telepathic mind, pregnancy probably only enhanced the effects.

I sighed. _I'm pregnant with Scott's child. _It sounded so incredibly fake. The words didn't fit together; not in this time and place. So I whispered, "The first of the Grey-Summers line." My heart leapt in my chest.

* * *

Now that I have written this chapter, I may very well merge this with another series I had in mind. o We'll just have to see what I can do to get the two to fit together. 


	3. Explanation

**After the Fact 3**

So it continues. It will now no longer be totally in Jean's POV, but rather in varying POVs with each chapter. Most likely, they will seldom be first-point from here on out.

I don't own the X-men; just like to write about them.

"After the Fact" will now begin to merge with my previously thought of "Three For The Road." Still post X3. And for all of you who have been reviewing and asking why Scott's not in the fic yet…perhaps you should just wait and let the plot unfold… :)

* * *

_Where the…where the hell? Where am I?_

"We don't even know _who_ he is!" The woman paused. "Didn't someone say he had a bag or something on him?"

"Yeah…if the motorcycle was his, then he had a backpack," a male chimed in.

"Then go through it…" The woman stated.

_God…feels like I was hit by a bus…_ _Not that I really know what that feels like…but whatever.._

"Okay… We've got water…some food…" the man sifted through the bag. "A phone… Wow…some nice sunglasses here…"

"Driver's licsence? Cell phone? _Anything?_" The woman insisted.

"Err…here's a phone!" He replied.

_Oh god…water… I don't ever want to be near water. Not Ever._

"It says S. Summers," the man replied.

"Okay… Mr. Summers. That's a start," the woman stated.

_Jean. Oh god…Jean… That wasn't you, was it? You just like to haunt me. _

"Alright…keep looking… I'll start checking the situation out here."

_No…I was probably dreaming. Or something. I hit my head…I think._

"Well…it seems that he had a minor concussion at some point," the woman stated.

_But you were real, weren't you? I touched you…we kissed… But something happened; you weren't Jean, and I wasn't me then._

"Any damage?" The man asked, still going through the bag.

"Seems part of his brain is heavily damaged…but I don't see how that would be possible…there's no indentation on the skull."

_She came back, didn't she?_

"Well now that's odd…" the man stated; getting up and coming closer.

"See?" The monitor flashed with images of the man's skull and brain, and there was noticeable stress over one area in particular.

He dug through the bag again. "Oh…you might want to take a look at this…"

_She held the blast back._

"Xavier's Institute? That's the mutant school," the woman confirmed. Both doctors eyed the man on the table. "He's a mutant?" she added in disbelief.

"That's what I would say… Oh and this says his name is Scott," the man concluded.

"Scott Summers. Hm. Do we have any mutant stuff on database?" The female asked, hesitant on where to go from here.

"No."

_Red. I hate it. But it looks good on you… But you showed me color after all these years… It was blinding._

"Well I ought to check the blood pressure and heart beat and whatnot… Then the ears, eyes, and mouth…just enough of the basics to get the general information. Then we'll let them decide what they want to do with this mutant."

_What happened to me?_

I began to groan weakly and shift on the table. The woman had already checked my heart and blood. She'd reported they were slightly erratic, but overall rather normal for a human.

"You think we ought to try to contact someone for him?" The man stated, holding the phone.

"Like who?" The woman said, tilting the man's head to the side, checking one ear, then the other.

"Well there's one that says 'Xavier's,' try that?" the man questioned.

"Sure. Sounds good…especially if he works there," the woman said. She took the ear piece off the small flashlight. Her fingertips fell on his left eyelid.

_Don't…_ However, I couldn't speak.

The optic blast exploded from behind my previously closed eyes. The touch had awoken me nearly to the point of full consciousness, and when I realized that I'd just given the room a new sunroof, I snapped my eyes together in fear.

"Damn it," I breathed, propping himself up with his elbows. I was shaking as I heard a body fall to the left of me.

"Oh my god…" the man choked, holding the cell phone that was now ringing.

Back at the mansion, the phone rang loudly in the hallway. Logan's eyebrows arched curiously, and he reached for it. "Xavier's Institute for Gifted kids," Logan added his own spin on the title. "How may I help you today?" he added, amusing only himself.

"Yes…uh…" the man stammered, his voice fading shortly thereafter.

"Yeah?" Logan inquired.

"Sir, do you know a man…b-by the name of Scott S-Summers?"

Silence greeted the receiver. "Yeah?" Logan reluctantly replied.

"He's at the F-Florance Hospital in Canada. Just off o-of Alkali Lake. Please come retrieve him."

Logan's brow sharpened in perplexity. _One-Eye's supposed to be dead. _"Okay…I'll send someone."

"Sir, please come _now_," the man demanded.

Logan listened for a few seconds, and could hear Scott yelling in the background. _Yep, that's him._

"And sir…I have to ask… Is it…._normal_ for him to have lasers shooting from his eyes?"

"Perfectly normal, doc. _Perfectly_ normal."

---

So, I was alive. How wonderful for me, right? I'd been left in the darkness of a "coma-like" state for close to four days now. I gather that wasn't too terribly bad, but it still ticked me off. And waking up in a hospital was my least favorite place to blow a hole in the wall at. No telling whether or not I would have actually been released…except for my continuous yelling and Storm insisting I was delusional and needed help from my "personal doctor," who of course was located at the mansion.

When I got outside, I laughed at her. _Delusion?_ No. I was far from it. Yet, the whole while I seemed to be submerged to my neck in it. Jean had tried to kill me, or rather Phoenix had. I'd seen her before, and we'd spoken in small bits in the past. She didn't exactly fancy me, or so I believed; she was all about rebellion and going against Jean's morals to get power and to get the answer to her lustful cravings. Extreme difference, no? However, I could see the similarities in the two; this was only logical due to Phoenix being in Jean's body for god only knows how long. Both Jean and Phoenix seemed to share the same sense of logic and intelligence, and both needed love to complete them. This was something that no matter what bribe, I would never offer to Phoenix, but it seemed to be the only thing that would pull Jean back to reality after Phoenix took hold.

Now I sat in the co-pilot's spot in the massive interior of the Blackbird, but Storm had made a strict point of forbidding me from touching anything. That was rather hard to comply with, due to my slight obsessive-compulsiveness about how to fly the jet. I'd taught Ororo, however she had her own ways of going about things that simply made my teeth cringe. Nevertheless, I placed full trust in her piloting skills, she had been trained by the best. And I smirked at that thought.

"You wanna tell me what happened?" Her voice cut the air like a knife. I was pulled back to reality upon the question, and the answer took its time in my mind.

I bit my lip at first, but then began slowly, "I..went to Alkali." Hmm. Not all the words had formed to legit sentences yet. I struggled again, now biting the inside of my mouth.

"No kidding," Storm breathed, flashing a dangerous glare at me.

I returned the glare from behind the glasses. Lucky for me, I'd taken the only other pair of the ruby-quartz glasses with me when I'd made the trip to the lake. When I'd decided finally to leave, something inside me told me not to return to the mansion, no matter what exactly I found at the lake. I guess that's why I took the glasses? However, my mind burned strongly for me not to go at the same time. Jean's voice and thoughts crossed into my own field of thoughts far too many times for it to be ignored though; I had to get to the lake to stop the torture. I had to physically prove to myself she was dead if I was going to consciously stop allowing her to torture me.

"Guess I got angry… I remember pulling off the glasses and the blast going into the lake, then a massive headache. And after that…the water was moving unnaturally and I was thrown back. I think I blacked out for a while, but when I got up again Jean was there. Talked to her for a few seconds, then she wanted to see my eyes; she held back the blast and then we kissed…" my voice broke off as I fell back into my own memories. Jean had that effect on me.

"That's it?" Storm stated after a moment.

"And I woke up in the damn hospital." I shrugged my shoulders. What else was there to tell? Anyone _other_ than me probably knew more on the situation.

The jet titled down ever so slightly, and I could see the mansion a ways below us as Storm continued to dive into the open air.

"There's gotta be more," she insisted.

I gave a skeptical look and then clicked my tongue against my teeth before answering nonchalantly, "Nope."

She sighed as the basketball court ruptured into two even flats. "When we went to Alkali, there was an enormous energy everywhere. Fog clouded everything. Stuff was floating everywhere, Scott. Jean was knocked out on the ground unconscious. Logan hadn't told me you left, so we didn't stay to look for you," she explained with her tone rising with each progressing sentence. The jet sank beneath ground level.

What could I say to that? I'd been knocked dead cold…although I didn't know why or how I'd gotten that way after Phoenix. Maybe she managed to somehow suck my soul or consciousness out. The only thing I distinctly remembered after the kiss was an extreme, burning heat, and then an unearthly cold. I missed Jean, but returning to her was something I was leery of. No. It wasn't returning to her. It was returning to feasibly face Phoenix again that sent shudders through my spine.

The back fell out of the jet, and Storm began powering-down the jets. She finally muttered, "Well it's a good thing you had another pair of those things, huh?" Her fingers briefly motioned to my glasses. I nodded in response. We could sense each other's hesitating demeanors. I hated this feeling; I knew I had to get up and get back into the regular swing of things, but the hesitation made me second guess my decisions. But Jean was worth it, right?

---

Silently Logan was brooding over the man's return. Scott had immediately been dragged off to the infirmary; Storm had asked Logan to call Hank and get him over as fast as possible. The blue-furred mutant had been more than willing to retire for the day from his government duties, not that there was anything extreme going on at the moment anyways.

However, with his return, Logan was going to yet again be shoved to the side, because surviving "death" was something that for sure would give Summers quite a bit of attention. Not that Logan particularly cared, but the attention he would receive would have a main source: Jean. Even in the short week that Jean had been alone, and Scott claimed dead, Logan had felt that he and the red-haired woman had grown slightly closer.

So here he was; the Wolverine standing alone within the confines of the massive library deep within the mansion, contemplating another disappearing act and staying to watch potential trouble enfold the mansion. At the consideration of the second, he arched an eyebrow. _Perhaps staying could have its potential advantages,_ he thought, giving a smirk as he tromped out of the quiet sanctuary.

* * *

My apologizes for such a short chapter. The next bit that is coming up works best in third-person perspective, so I've saved it for the next installment. 


	4. Together

**After The Fact 4**

BAM. Sorry for the minor hiatus there! I recently started up a new RP, and it stole away all my creative time. Writing has progressed slowly, but I hope to get the two series I have currently finished before mid-August.

Mmh. And I don't own the X-men. Just like to manipulate them to fit my fics. :)

* * *

The echoes of the man's footsteps sounded horribly lonesome. The last Scott Summers had seen of Jean was the faintest glimpse of Phoenix rising. It had been him who'd awaken her; due to uncontrolled anger and a blind shot into the lake. He regretted it, and honestly feared Jean's fate. He'd seen the tombstones, and Professor Xavier's memorial. Now that he was rested up and healed for the most part, he was making his way towards his room; he needed to sort himself out yet again before doing much of anything else.

Jean's heart thudded in her ears as she walked quietly down the hallway. Now that she had been unearthed and healed, all that was left was for her mind to calm down. When Phoenix reigned, Jean saw nothing. Jean hardly remembered any of what had happened in the past few weeks, and if she remembered something, the visions only came in bits and pieces; flashes of horrible scenarios. The last Jean Grey had seen of Scott was just when Phoenix rose to full control. The memory came to her vividly: the two embracing, Scott without his ruby glasses, and then they'd kissed. Her pace slowed as a grief-stricken face came over her. She then put a hand to her mouth as tears flooded into her eyes. Jean leaned against a wall in a feeble attempt to keep her balance, and to keep her from losing her sanity. Her breath came in short gasps, and in between the choking tears and blinking she uttered, "No… No… H-he can't b-be…" And then she freely cried into the arm of her sweater. She couldn't bring herself to even say it.

His eyes were catalysts, he'd decided. If not for the optic blast into Alkali Lake, Jean would have never returned. Phoenix wouldn't have awoken. They wouldn't have kissed. His heart skipped a beat. He could have been killed by that kiss, but he'd miraculously survived. How? He made guesses, but all of them were ludicrous. He thought several times of the clichéd "love conquers all," option, but could love really conquer? Had it been the love that he and Jean shared that had saved him from Phoenix? Of course not, he thought. It was absurd. That was only true in the movies.

Jean too had seen the graves; shuddering after being unearthed and turning around to see her name staring down at her on a tombstone. She faintly recalled hearing a scream after her eyes laid on the three identical memorials. Had it been her own? But immediately afterwards, her mind flooded with questions. Who had killed them? Why? Had it been her? Had it been Phoenix? And again, why? Jean shifted so that her back lied parallel against the wood paneling. She drew in a quick breath, as if someone had touched ice to her back, and released it in a shaky sigh. Who was to say Scott was alive? She blindly believed that he had survived Phoenix, but after being told what she'd done to Charles, her heart had sunk.

What they would give to be with each other again, they had thought simultaneously.

How long had Phoenix really been awake? He wondered. Had she been there all along, and he had just never realized it? The day at the lake stabbed him in the back. Scott had gone to regain his sanity; to stop Jean from haunting his every waking moment. What did he get? Thrown to the ground, a likely minor concussion, a kiss, and then a blow that sent him unconscious for god only knows how long. He'd woken in a hospital. Somehow he'd managed to the mansion.

Jean had been stuck in the stomach. She'd felt the blood leave her, and then her consciousness leaving her. Logan thought he'd killed her. Little did anyone realize, Jean had also been claimed "dead" due to the entirety of Alkali Lake collapsing on her. The claw wounds may have silenced her, but they would not keep Jean Grey dead for long.

He made it 'round the bend. His hands were firmly jammed into his pockets. Jean still leaned against the wall, wallowing in her disastrous memories. It'd taken a moment for the two to even acknowledge each other.

She's okay, Scott thought, his eyes feeling as if they would spring tears from behind the ruby glasses.

Oh god…I've died… That's it…I just died. I died and he we are again in the after-life. Jean convinced herself it was the only logical explanation for Scott's return.

Scott swallowed and called dryly, "Jean?"

So much for that idea. Jean's eyes rested on his figure. This is too real, she decided.

The two strode towards one and other, not running, merely walking. The day's warm afternoon light filtered into the room; the faultless blue sky and rolling clouds reflected a perfect summer day outside. After what seemed hours, the two stood mere inches apart.

Jean faltered over her words. However, words were not needed when the two pulled into the tightest of embraces. Jean's heart jumped out of her chest. Scott could literally breathe in their happiness. His heart stopped, and her insides seemed to disappear.

"I thought you were dead," Jean whispered, pulling away only to the slightest extent.

"For a while I did too," Scott replied, a faint chuckle slipping from his breath.

Her arms were around his neck, while one of his was around her waist and the other was around her back, lacing up to her shoulder. "Don't let go," Jean whispered, her voice breaking. "It's been so long," she added in a barely audibly voice as she began to cry into his shoulder; her tears seeping into his jacket.

His grip tightened on him as her fingers extended to the opposing shoulders.

"How did you get back?" Jean murmured.

His hand tailed over her red waves and his fingers lingered between the strands. "Funny story," he breathed, recalling the hectic situation. "I woke up in a hospital in _Canada_, no less, and when I did actually open my eyes, I…" his voice dropped, "I killed the nurse, by _accident_, of course." A shudder ran down his spine. If he hadn't been found, he could have easily been killed by some other cruel person that came along, or by a wild animal. Luckily hikers had found Scott not too long after Phoenix had thrown him unconscious. Again he gave thanks that he was alive and hadn't been captured or even held captive; there was no guarantee that he wouldn't have been taken for testing even after the hospital treatment. However, as soon as Scott had woken in the hospital, the doctor immediately snapped to the fact he was a mutant. When Scott was demanding to be taken home, the doctor and additional nurses attempted to sedate him, but being hard-headed as he was, he fought against them. After a phone call, with Logan being the one to answer it, and he hearing Scott shouting in the background, he was escorted back. Looking back on it, anyone who'd looked in on the situation would have probably been able to compare Scott to a trapped animal and would have found many similarities.

Jean looked up to him, her light brown eyes filtering the sun light in the hallway. "And you ran, didn't you?" she concluded as he lost himself in the recollection of the memories.

"No," he raised his eyebrows briefly and concluded, "they called here and Storm came and got me."

Silence reigned for a long time after that. Jean was debating whether or not to retell the entire Phoenix incident, and eventually decided against it.

"I…" the word was inaudible. Jean shifted uncertainly, her arms falling between her and Scott's bodies. "I missed you," she whispered.

Their lips met, and broke apart quickly.

"Last time this happened you tried to kill me," he breathed.

"It's okay," she whispered, bringing them back together.

Coming around the corner rather quickly were Ororo and Logan, both going on about something incessant. The two thundered down the halls, and once they turned the corner, Ororo threw her arm across Logan's front. She then smiled tenderly, and looked to Logan through the corner of her eye.

"Oh, so what…they're making out," Logan murmured in response, rolling his eyes.

Scott's hand rose to the small of her back, and she inhaled sharply at the action. Logan nearly laughed out of spite.

"Give them their time, Logan… When was the last time you saw them to anything in the open?" Ororo replied, her smile undying. She'd considered the two her closest friends since shortly after she'd arrived at the mansion, and seeing the two together, like this no less, was rare. However, she felt a sense of pride for the two.

Jean and Scott broke apart, but quickly found out they had been watched. Jean closed her eyes and forced an embarrassed laugh. She then put her hands over her mouth as she felt the color rising to her cheeks. Scott too forced a laugh, but then stated, "Hey, Logan… I thought I told you to stay away from my girl." Jean had a hard time suppressing the laughter in her throat. Scott's arms were still around her, and he was rubbing her shoulder as he grinned in a I-told-you-so fashion at Logan.

Logan threw up his arms in his own defense. He then pointed at Ororo and growled, "I was just walking by, Cyke. 'Roro's idea."

"I'm not backing you up…don't look at me," Ororo replied as she raised an eyebrow.

"I think six stab wounds to the stomach means you got awfully damn close," Scott shot back, raising an eyebrow himself.

Logan stammered, "Oh..you cannot even…" He then advanced, but Storm managed to push him back. She gave him the stern smirk, and he backed off only temporarily.

Logan would have his way eventually.

---

"…Do…do you remember any of it?" he asked reluctantly.

"I'd rather not…" she breathed.

The most famous couple in the mansion now lurked in their suite. After a short meeting in the hallway late in the afternoon, they made off towards their room, Jean still tearing up slightly and Scott in utter disbelief. Now she sat on the edge of the bed, one leg folded under her body and the other draped over the side of the mattress. He stood in the view of the mirror of the bathroom attached to their room, running a hand over his face repeatedly. They were trying to relax, or at least calm to their senses. Jean was shaken, Scott was having a hard time getting a grip on reality.

"…but I think I can tell you what I know…" Jean added after a moment.

Scott looked from the mirror to the woman sitting on the edge of the bed. His face looked pained and pitying, but he said nothing.

"…you. You woke me up…didn't you?" Jean began in a whisper. "I remembered you…and I remembered…a hug..or a kiss or something… But then you were gone and it was dark… Next time I came to I was staring at Logan in the infirmary…but everything was off, the monitors were screwing up and my powers were going crazy."

"Jean," he whispered, exiting the extended room and sitting behind her on the bed. "I'm so sorry…" But what could he have honestly done? He only had been attempted-murdered by Phoenix herself. However he knew from practically first hand experience what it meant when her powers went "crazy." Before she continued he ran a hand through her hair much as a kitten would with a river of yarn, and then he drew the red waves to the side and stroked her shoulders.

Her eyes fell closed as her hair now fell over her shoulder, but she continued with, "Things happened…I only got little bits, and nothing ever lasted long. I remember Logan chasing after me in the forest…but Magneto came in and it went away again.. And then everything was red…" She grimaced bitterly, "God, Scott…everything was so red…" He knew that feeling _very _well.

Her thoughts drifted as she tried to collect legitimate words, and Scott pulled her closer, her hands falling around her waist. "It's okay…you don't need to go on—" Yet she cut him off with, "And then everything went cold. No red, no blackness like before…just pain. I'd been hit or something… Come to find out I was 'killed.'"

"And you came back," he finished for her. She nodded. Then one of her hands trailed between his fingers, and the two just sat together for a long moment in silence. He glanced down upon her hand wedging within his, and then whispered, "You…you're wearing the ring?"

Her cheeks instantly flushed and she sniffed loudly, already fighting the painful tears of recollection, and fearing tears of guilt coming on. "Um…yes… I…I didn't want to give up on you," she whispered, "I saw the memorial…but I…I just couldn't believe it."

"Good thing," he murmured. His fingers withdrew from her now limp hand, and he brushed the ring. It had honestly brought extreme joy that Jean had worn the ring in honor of him; much of a tribute to him or something of the like.

He pulled away for a moment, and as he did Jean took the time to wipe furiously at her reddened eyes. She heard a drawer scrape open behind her, and then slide close a few seconds later, and he took his place behind her again with his chin against her head and a hand around her middle. The other hand gripped a familiar box loosely, and he murmured, "You want to do the honors?"

Jean sniffled quietly and then reluctantly took the box from his palm, opening it to find his ring. Her finger ran the distance of the band, and as she plucked it from the casing, she chuckled as it slid onto her finger with ease; this due to the fact it was quite a bit larger than her own ring. However she retrieved it and then slid it onto Scott's hand. Their fingers wove together again, and she mused, "You think we should tell them?"

"I don't know…" he stated.

"You know I'm sorry right?"

He looked perplexed for a moment and then replied, "Of course, Jean."

Her mouth opened and the words were in her mind, but she couldn't get herself to say it. She needed to tell him. Instead, her lip quivered. She gave a heavy exhale and then leaned against his shoulders.

"You okay?" he questioned, concerned for her as always.

She shook her head halfheartedly and then scowled at her inability to just get two words out. Finally she whispered, "I'm pregnant, Scott."

His breath stuttered for a moment and then he questioned, "What?" Eyebrows raised and all.

"I ran tests Scott.. The store test came positive and then I ran tests on my own blood to be sure…" she reinstated, "both positive."

"With who?" he questioned, quite dumbfounded.

"Scott…I haven't done anything…with anyone…with you…for at least six months," she managed, turning to look him in the eyes.

He shook his head. He was just as confused as she was.

"I don't know…but… I'm guessing that the child was conceived…" she shook her head and put a hand to her forehead and sighed, "At least seven months ago? Maybe?"

"And you're sure about that?"

She took his hand and whispered, "Scott. You know I would never…"

He blinked forcibly and then mused, "How…why don't you look it then?"

"My best guess is that the baby went dormant just as my own body did with Phoenix in Alkali…" she paused and uttered, "I don't know how the thing could still be living, though."

"How long do you think it's come along?" He shook himself and repeated, "How old do you think it is? …and do you know if it's an 'it' or something else?"

"Don't be ridiculous…you can't tell this early…" she laughed. The baby had been in her body for seven months. "I mean..the baby seems to have only developed a month an a half…at tops. And it is alive."

His face melted to one of innocent joy. He would believe it for now. "Jean," he breathed, and the two drew close again, "god I love you."


End file.
